


devil on my chest

by watergator



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Demons, Horror, M/M, Nightmares, Sleep Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 21:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: dan experiences sleep paralysis





	devil on my chest

Eyes crack open and all he can see is darkness. It takes a while for them to adjust to the dim light that shrouds his vision, but eventually the room around him becomes clear.  
  
He’s staring up at the ceiling. He can just about make out the tiny little crack that’s grown familiar to him over time. He looks up at where it runs through the paint and when he tries to follow it down to where it meets the edge of the wall is when he realises he can’t move.  
  
His muscles grow tight under his skin and no matter how much he wills himself to move them, they stay solid and unmoving.  
  
Panic begins to flare up in his chest and he realises he cannot move. He lays flatly on his back, almost as if his skin has been sewn tightly to the mattress beneath him, and all he can move is his eyes.  
  
He looks across the room; this isn’t a dream. It becomes clear to him when he makes out the normality of their bedroom he can barely see. The dresser sits beside the door with a sock hanging out one of the drawers, he looks right and he can see the messy stack of shoes that sit in the corner of the room.  
  
He tries to move again, but it’s as if his body has been cemented from the inside out, like his bones have fused together and his body is static.  
  
He glances to his right where just out the corner of his eye he can see Phil. He sleeps with his face half smashed into the pillow, mouth hanging open just enough for a small line of drool to pool from his lips.

His heart beats even fast when he tries to move again. But he can’t.  
  
He calms himself and takes five big shaky breaths in, and out as he tries to reason with his panic stricken brain.  
  
_This is sleep paralysis_ , he tells himself.

He’s experienced it before; back when he was a lot younger and in the darkness of his own room in his little single bed, he’d awake in the night with the exact same sensations as now. His breaths seem to stutter in his chest and his nostrils flare as he exhales.  
  
He can’t even open his mouth; it feels like his teeth have been glued together tightly, and his jaw aches from how clamped shut it is.  
  
He watches Phil sleep. He reminds himself that when this is over that he can roll over into his arms and tell him about it in the morning. It calms him.  
  
But only until he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

He tells himself to look away, to just focus of what he can see of Phil out of his peripheral vision and wait for this to be over. But curiosity plagues him and he flickers his eyes over to where the door is.  
  
And once he has, he wishes he hadn’t.  
  
It stands almost ten feet tall, long and hunched in the doorway. It blocks out the small amount of light that comes from the hallway, blurring out it’s edges.  
  
His heart pounds against his chest, unable to look away. He can feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his quick breaths coming from his nose.  
  
It’s so quiet.  
  
It stands there, dressed in black like a shadow, long straggly hair falls over its face.  
  
Dan looks away. He looks back up at the ceiling and lets himself focus on the thin crack. But something tells him to look back, and despite his fear, he does.  
  
It’s inches away from his face.

Long, thick hair tickles over his skin as it hovers above him, parallel to his frozen body. Dan can hear the sound of blood pumping in his head as his heart beats and beats and beats.  
  
Pure fear has made him forget that this isn’t real. Pure fear has him whimpering quietly, unable to scream for help.  
  
The figure just stays there, above his face. It’s too dark for him to even see anything but he can feel it. He can feel it above him, like it’s really there.

He screams inside his own head, so loud that he’s sure he can actually feel his throat burn from where the words would usually claw out from.  
  
He screams for Phil, over and over and over again. And so his eyes tear away, for a second to look back at Phil, who simply rolls over, greeting Dan with his back, and Dan’s voice inside his head sobs,  
  
_Don’t leave me._  
  
He looks back at the figure and wills himself to move. He tries to move his body, to get up and run but every inch of energy that goes into trying to move comes out in a pathetic twitch of his finger.  
  
_I’m going to die_ , he tells himself. He’s going to be murdered and he can’t even force himself to fight back.  
  
Heavy thuds of his heart hammer against his chest and suddenly, there’s something pressing down against him.  
  
Blood runs ice cold under his skin and his mouth goes dry as the figure presses two long, bony looking hands against his shirtless chest. It pushes down and Dan screams out again.  
  
Of course, nothing escapes his lips, and his brain is pounding at how loud it is now. His ears ring like white noise at the thick silence that hangs in the room, his own screaming inside his head desperate to block it out.  
  
It pushes, and pushes and pushes and Dan is sure he’s going to die. His eyes burn, unable to blink like his lids have been stapled open and soon enough tears begin to roll down his face.

The cold hands against his bare chest feel as real as the hot tears against his cheeks and he continues to scream for help.

He ends up praying inside his head, asking and pleading for god to save him. Old prayer that he’d long forgotten since childhood seems to play over and over inside his head as he prays to be saved.  
  
It pushes, and pushes and pushes and Dan is ready to die. He looks back at Phil who seems to be stirring in his sleep but Dan just whimpers, afraid that if this creature takes him, it’ll take Phil too.  
  
He screams inside his own head again, begging and pleading and desperate for something to save him. Terror has stripped him down to his basic instincts, his flight of fight activating inside him with a snap as he tries to get away. He’s not Dan anymore; he’s prey.  
  
He thrashes his limbs and begs them to move, but every inch of him stays still, all the way down to his toes. He lets out a little moan, lips still sealed shut, but it’s not loud enough for anyone to hear.  
  
The figure leans in closer, and Dan can swear he can feel the brush of hair against his cheek, and as it leans in closer to his face does he hear the long, slow, raspy breaths it makes. It rattles against him, as if it echo’s inside his own head like ringing bells. His own screams attempt to drown it out.  
  
With that, it pushes both hands against his chest and pushes all its weight onto him. He can’t breathe, and his lungs burn like a fire inside his chest and tears now stream from his eyes as fear takes over.  
  
_I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die._  
  
He can feel his last breath as it pushes it out from his lungs, squeezing it out, and with that Dan screams one last time.  
  
Except this time, his mouth snaps open and it’s ripping from out of his throat. All the energy that he had been fighting for before seems to burst through him, and his body jolts forward until he’s sat up in bed.  
  
Sweat rolls off his body like a thick fog and he flinches when he feels hands come to wrap around his shoulders.  
  
He screams again, and closes he eyes, too terrified to have to look, but when he hears the soothing voice beside him does he open them again.  
  
It’s Phil.  
  
“You’re okay,” Phil whispers against his cheek. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”  
  
His body trembles as he sobs into Phil’s neck. He can feel him and smell him and it all feels as real as that creature just moments ago.  
  
But panic seems to bleed away from his mind and things seem to come back to him with more clarity.  
  
_It was sleep paralysis_ , he reminds himself. Nothing more than that.  
  
Phil holds him, tight and close until Dan’s heartbeat stops stuttering against his chest and his hands stop shaking.

Eventually Dan feels the heavy drag of sleep calling him back, and so he crawls up close to Phil and tucks himself beside him as close as possible, and falls asleep to the feeling of gentle fingers carding through his hair and a press of warm lips against his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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